


The Missing

by Hecate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/pseuds/Hecate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things they can never get back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, no money is made with this.

**1.**  
She feels as if she has forgotten something. Left the oven on, the window open, the cat outside (they don't have a cat; she thinks they should), something. Something is wrong.

Something is wrong with her.

She loves swimming, loves the ocean, loves the sun on her skin. She panics between the waves sometimes, confused, scared. As if she doesn't know this. But she does (I never swam in the ocean before, she thought one time, but that's not right).

When people call her name she doesn't always react. Sometimes her signature goes wrong and sometimes it looks like a lie.

Something is wrong with her.

She always seems to be waiting for something these days; she buys more food than they need; she looks for a room that isn't there. Her husband asks her if she regrets that they never had a child. She shrugs, he buys her a cat.

She wants to call it Crookshanks but doesn't. The name, she thinks, is wrong for the cat. Sometimes, she shouts the name anyway, and if the cat is hungry it comes. She frowns then, a strange feeling in her gut, but still feeds the cat. She doesn't know what she expected.

Something is wrong with her.

There's a girl standing at the door one day, wild hair, relieved smile, and she thinks, yes. Yes. I know you, she says and the girl nods.

Months later, they're back in Great Britain and she remembers everything. She hugs her girl when she's around and she meets her family and friends. She takes long walks in the rain and remembers the life she had for a few months. She remembers new friends and new freedom, the ocean and salt in the air.

Something is wrong with her.

She misses the sunshine.

 

**2.**  
Gregory remembers fire. He remembers running and falling and Draco beside him, pushing and pulling. He doesn't remember being saved.

He remembers Vincent and he knows Draco does, too. He sees how Draco turns to his left sometimes, where Vincent used to be, and for a moment Draco blinks and stares. Gregory always knows when Draco remembers, from the way pain suddenly flashes across his face before Draco pushes it away. 

Gregory pretends he doesn't see it, and Draco stays silent when Gregory gets food for Vincent before he puts it away again.

He thinks that everything will be better once Hogwarts is over. Both of them will go their own ways, alone then, and Vincent's absence will be pushed away by the absence of everything they know.

Things will be better soon, Gregory tells himself, and when he tells Draco the same the other boy shrugs and nods, his eyes wandering to his left side, searching. Sure, Draco says, but Gregory knows that Draco doesn't believe him.

 

**3.**  
They have to repeat the year they missed running and fighting and surviving, and it's strange but good. The three of them at Hogwarts, heroes and students, and Harry tries not to think about the years to come.

He has done everything he was supposed to do, and the future is scarier now than it was when Voldemort was still alive.

He's free. He just doesn't know what to do with his freedom now.

Hermione is full of plans, she can hardly decide which career sounds best, Ron is torn between Quidditch and Aurors, and both sound like dreams that might just be possible. After Voldemort, Ron says, everything is possible.

They think Harry wants to be an Auror and he used to; they think he wants Ginny and he does. But it's not enough. Not Ginny and her kisses, nor the bright future of an Auror.

Harry dreams of Voldemort sometimes, dark, cruel phantoms that make him feel so very alive. When he wakes up, he touches his scar and feels the outline of flesh, death and victory. It doesn't hurt like it used to, the pain is different now. Phantom pain, Harry thinks, like a missing limb.

Like a missing purpose.

Sometimes, he dreams of Tom, wild smile, crazy eyes. Life stalking through his dreams, electricity and power turned into skin and bones and a beautiful face.

In his dreams, Harry reaches out and touches nothing.

 

**4.**  
Every morning, when George looks into the mirror, he forgets for a second.

Fred looks at him, alive and breathing, and for a moment death is just a bad dream. But then death returns with the memory, and George swallows a sob and almost chokes on it.

He dresses, he eats, he breathes. He does his job, he visits his family and friends. He pretends Fred is just on a trip without him, a crazy thought, but it's enough to get him through the day.

Fred is on vacation, he thinks, vacation until George's death and he eats, undresses and sleeps.

He dreams. He wakes.

Life goes on, they say, and time heals all wounds. There's an ugly scar where his ear used to be, there's a scar running through his family. Absence, unbreathing but moving, following George around.

He thinks his family can forget when he isn't around, but he knows it's a lie. They never forget, but they've continued living. He can't.

He breathes.

The shop is still a success, he doesn't worry about money. Percy helps him with the books, a steady presence only wavering when Percy looks at him and sees Fred dying. George almost hates him for it, hates him because he was there. Percy could have died instead. George should have been with Fred.

He thinks he should hate himself for feeling that way but he doesn't.

He works, he smiles for customers and his mother. He breathes.

Every evening, when George looks into the mirror, he pretends for a second. He smiles.

 

**5.**  
Andromeda doesn't take Teddy to the funeral. She leaves him with the Weasleys and apparates to Malfoy Manor alone. Lucius opens the door, frowns when he sees her but lets her in without a word. She knows he will be taken to Azkaban soon - she read about his sentence in the Prophet - but for now he's still there.

He's wearing black, and she almost tells him that wizards and Muggles share that custom. But then Narcissa is there, black dress, blonde hair, so very pale – a contrast made of skin and fabric. Narcissa frowns but stays silent, Lucius' mirror, and Andromeda follows her without a word.

Draco is at the Malfoy's morgue already, black and white, his parents in every feature and every move. He can't hide his surprise when he sees her, but again, there are no words. She knows that no one knows what to say and she welcomes the quiet.

The funeral is short and distant, a coffin pushed into its place by magic, words burned into the stone under it. _Bellatrix Lestrange_ , buried among Malfoys because no one else would have her.

Andromeda leaves then, silent as she came, and it's only when she looks over her shoulder for a last time that her eyes meet her sister's. Narcissa nods curtly, distant, and Andromeda mirrors her motion. She doesn't say goodbye, she's never said the words before, she only dreams them sometimes.

She dreams of Bellatrix, too. Bellatrix, before everything, younger and still her sister. There were three of them, years ago, and Andromeda still remembers.

Once upon a time, she tells the sleeping Teddy later, they were three sisters. She ends the story there, remembering three children, laughing and playing, until reality found them. Reality, life, politics.

Three sisters, two sisters, Andromeda counts them down. It feels as if she's the only one left.


End file.
